Eleven Years Ago

Eleven years ago

It was a normal Friday night – normal for his family anyway- his dad drunk as usual, bellowing through the house. “Wanda, I told you a million times I hate fish sticks and what’s on my plate? Fucking fish sticks!”

“I told you those were for Levi, Roger, not for you.” She stirred a pot on the stove. “Look, I’m making you that spaghetti you like so much. It’s just about done.”

Levi winced as he heard the slap and his mother cry out. “Why isn’t it on the fucking table then? Is it too much to ask to have some goddamn dinner on the table when a man gets home from working all goddamn day in the hot sun?” His father took another slug from his bottle. He’d long since given up the pretense of drinking from glasses.

“Here, honey, here it is,” Levi’s mother placed two bowls of spaghetti on the table and forced a smile. “Come eat.”

Levi crept up the hallway to peek into the dining room as his father weaved his way to the table and sat down heavily, eyeing his dinner. “And why doe